"He is in a fugue state, suffering from a form of magesthesia. His mind is trapped in a self-generated 'now,' a sort of internally imposed stasis. All that we can really do for him is to keep him quiet, tend to his body and hope that he comes out of it." Healer Jordan made a note on the record and then looked at the aurors inquiringly.
Madame Bones grimaced, wondering if her lack of time had contributed to his condition. Perhaps a less forceful approach than pulling him out of the cell could have kept him from falling into this condition. "The department has a legalmancer on contract. Could that help to reach him?"
"Absolutely not!" The healer straightened in alarm. "He developed those magical shields to defend himself against intrusion by those damned demons! Any kind of invasive mind magic will just reinforce them."
"So you're talking about putting him in a bed and leaving him, like the Longbottoms?" Tonks wouldn't have ordinarily spoken out of turn in the presence of her superior, but it was slowly growing on her that Sirius was family and she desperately wanted to take someone's head for what had happened to him.
The healer grimaced apprehensively at the metamorph. Some witches thought that anything could be solved with a wand, but magic had a mind of its own and sometimes it decided wrongly. "The fact that Mister Black needs constant continuing care is beyond question. The immediate problem here is that he is a Lord of Magical Britain and doesn't qualify for our charity. As he is obviously incapable of arranging for payment on his own, he will need a trustee appointed to take care of his business until he's capable of resuming his life."
Bones looked at Tonks and almost took a step back. The metamorph had reverted to her natural form, which was near a clone of a younger Bellatrix and she looked far gone in the classic Black Rage. "Auror Tonks!"
Tonks snapped out of it. "Sorry, Boss. Won't happen again."
"We will get to the bottom of this, Nymphadora." Bones looked at the healer. "The Ministry did this to Reserve Auror Black and so the Ministry will be covering his stay for as long as it takes." The DMLE budget had been raised and though still critically shorthanded she was suddenly awash in money. Sirius Black had been betrayed by the department in every way and she would see to his care even if the Wizengamot ignored the atrocity committed in its name.
"What should I tell Harry?" Tonks grimaced. He deserved some good news.
Bones considered the matter. She should have the boy picked up immediately and sent to Madame Crowley to place in foster care, but he had an elf looking after him and was doing quite well on his own. He would be returning to school soon and if she disturbed that particular clutch of wiverns the whole matter could easily become political. Deloris Umbridge was enjoying her brief moment as an acting Minister and Murphy's Law dictated that the idiot would seek to involve herself in the situation.
All it would take would be one of the woman's ugly ploys, seeing the boy in the hands of exploiters or worse and Dumbledore could be back in the Chief Warlocks seat before the echo of her cell door slamming had died down. One mustn't underestimate Dumbledore's popularity and that would be it for the Death Eater purge if he found an issue with which to claw his way back to power. Besides, a boy who would invade the Chamber of Secrets to beard a dark lord and a basilisk in their lair was likely to be a handful if not inclined to follow orders.
"Tell him the truth. He seems to be doing well enough as he is and he'll soon be back in school. Keep in contact, Tonks, but we'll only step in if he actually needs our help. Just keep an eye on him."
lf
Harry smiled as he walked along the sunken lane outside of his property line, taking the time to closely examine the edges of his wards. They had grown ever stronger as the ward sinks accumulated power, but Harry had noticed that they didn't store all that they could gather. Gramps thought the connection to the ley lines a temporary measure but Harry wasn't so sure.
Master Grimshank hadn't been willing to explain much about earth magic, but as Harry's sensitivity to magic increased he could tell that the ley lines were actually receiving magic back as the power descended into the ground at the edge of the ward. Instead of stagnating in a pool as the wards waited to trigger, the power simply overflowed the magical sinks that the Goblin wardmasters had made and cycled through, as if the entire property had become a bubble in the ley line. Harry found it all fascinating to watch and he was eager to learn more about warding. It had been a lonely month of camping so far, but his time had been filled with endless magical discovery, exciting and enjoyable in ways that he'd never imagined.
A noise distracted him from his thoughts and he stepped closer to the hedgerow on his side of the lane, placing himself in the outer penumbra of the ward. Turning, he smiled as he saw Hedwig, who circled and then landed in a nearby tree.
"Hello there, Pretty Owl. I was starting to wonder where you'd gotten off too." Harry frowned as she ignored him, intent on watching the lane.
"Hedwig?"
Harry's eyes widened at the voice and a girl came peddling around the curve on a bicycle. The voice had made him sure that it was Hermione for a moment, but then he took in the dark hair and vaguely familiar face under her straw sun hat. Her bike had a wicker basket that held a formidably large camera.
It was the hedge witch from the village. J-something. Jane! As she drew nearer, he impulsively stepped out of the area covered by the wards. "Hello, Jane."
The bike skidded and wobbled briefly as she recovered from her surprise and stopped, standing astraddle the low frame and holding the handlebars. "Is that Harry? Where did you come from?"
"Just hereabouts." He gestured vaguely, "I've a tent nearby."
Jane dismounted, holding her bike by the handlebars. "Where is Hedwig? She's visited me at home and I worried that she might have lost you. I was following her to see if she was getting enough to eat."
Harry laughed at the idea of Hedwig needing help with food. "Hedwig can find me anywhere, so don't worry. She's lurking right over there." Harry pointed out his owl, who watched them with interest. "She likes bacon and owl treats sometimes, but she prefers catching her own fare." He couldn't tell Jane the truth, which was that Hedwig gruesomely devoured large numbers of small human-like fairies.
Jane set the bike on its kickstand and took in his appearance. "You look clean for someone living rough." His clothes even looked pressed. Jane thought that he had filled out, some, but when they had met she had mostly noticed his eyes.
"I've everything that I need." Harry wondered about the letter of the statute. She was magical but clearly not in the know, which meant that her magic might have been bound. Could he tell her? Should he? He hated lying to people that didn't deserve it.
She looked worriedly at him. "Be careful, Harry. The police here don't get much to do and they watch for strangers. There are really far too many of them for anyone's good. The only real jobs for them are traffic stops and getting after illegal campers. The landowners here don't want people to try living rough you see, so even sleeping out on your own lawn gets you a caution. The police swagger about making nuisances of themselves, accosting strangers and annoying anyone seen doing anything out of the ordinary."
"No worries. The land owner doesn't mind and I can't be seen from the road." Harry doubted that a muggle could even think about him this close to his wards.
"Who's the owner? Most of the farmers around here act like you're up to no good just for being on the road. There's this one that famous for following people about in his Range Rover and pointing at them. Thinks he's Lord Kitchener or something." Jane thought that she knew everyone of note around the area and none of them would have time for someone their age.
Harry was keeping quiet about his wealth, but he didn't want to lie when he didn't have to. "It's me, actually. I inherited a patch here." He shrugged, embarrassed. "It belonged to my grandparents. The house… burned back in the seventies, after they had passed."
"You own it?" Jane looked puzzled, then gasped. "Your parents are dead? I'm so sorry, Harry." She took a step back, a little distraught over the revelation and knocked the bike over. Gasping, she whirled, but the bike fell very slowly, and wonderingly, she simply leaned in and plucked the camera from the basket before it could hit the road.
Harry gave her a kind smile. "Don't really remember them, but thanks anyway. So, what do you make of that?"
Jane slung the camera around her neck and picked up the bike. "The camera is frightfully expensive and I was lucky to catch it. My father bought it for his business, but found it unsuitable. He's letting me use it until he decides whether its worth his while to sell it."
"It all fell sort of slowly don't you think? Perhaps gravity is on the blink, eh?" Harry could see the same sort of denial working on her that he had gone through. He knew well the confused fog that one lived in while not believing the outlandishly impossible things presented by one's own eyes.
"Things just… happen sometimes." Jane saw the amusement dancing in his eyes and stamped, shouting, "You know something! Tell me now!"
He grinned, remembering Hagrid. "You're a witch, Jane! And a thumpin' strong one if I'm any judge. If you don't believe me, just take three steps forward."
Jane bit her lip, set the bike on its stand and took the steps, gasping when the wards started to fend her off. "What is that? It's tingling, pushing me back."
"You're close to my wards." Harry gestured behind him. "The closer you come to them the stronger they'll feel until you can't take another step."
"What?" Jane had no idea what he was talking about.
"You're a witch, Jane, and I'm a wizard. You have magic, so you can see and feel it. People without magic don't often notice and they get their memory of it erased when they do." Trying something new, Harry stole a little of the power from the ward, concentrated and gestured.
Jane watched her bicycle rise from the pavement, her face completely still. "So that's what it is."
"Yes." Harry let the machine settle. "You should have gotten an invitation to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry to learn how to use magic when you were eleven."
"Mum would have binned it. She wants me to go to Newham, like she did." Jane frowned.
Harry nodded thoughtfully. "She probably refused. Magic is a big international secret and they keep it that way by erasing memories and binding magic when someone doesn't accept. You're quite a strong witch to break the binding and the more you push the more of it you'll break. Just don't tell anyone that's not in the know and they won't come back. It's called the Statute of Secrecy and it's one of the most strictly enforced laws in the world."
"Thank you for telling me." Jane stared, lost. "Everything that I knew ten minutes ago is wrong. Now what do I do?"
"Welcome to my world, Jane, it happened to me too. Come on, I'll let you in the wards. We can talk a bit and I'll show you some books."
Jane took her handlebars in hand and walked after him, feeling just a hint of trepidation, but a look at Hedwig reassured her. Soon she was wheeling her bike through a stone gate that she hadn't been able to see before. There was a pop and-
"Aieeeee!" Jane leapt back, putting the bike between herself and the strange creature. "What is that, Harry?"
Harry grinned at her reaction, wishing that the goblins were still about. "This is a who, and his name is Dobby, my house elf friend. Don't be scared, he's the best! Dobby, this is Jane…
"Darling." She flushed, waiting for the inevitable. She usually said 'D' and people mistook it for Dee, but the strange little man had flustered her too much for deception.
"Jane Darling." Harry didn't turn a hair, knowing that she was dreading some inane joke. He decided on the spot not do it.
"Dobby be pleased to meet Missy Janey!" The elf bowed deep, causing the girl to giggle.
"Hello, Dobby." Jane almost sagged with relief to have avoided the horrid joke.
"My last name is Potter." Harry gestured for her to follow. "C'mon. Its a bit of a long way, so you ride and I'll run."
Jane had to pedal quite hard to keep up with him, so she didn't have much breath for comment when she saw the amazing circus tent. Dismounting at the entry, she stood staring, shocked by the gorgeous light and spaciousness of the interior. The entirety of the ground under the Big Top was covered by large ancient-looking flagstones and some parts had been subdivided into 'rooms' with canvas 'walls' hung from snow-white manila ropes running between posts.
"I've never seen anything like it, Harry. Is it magic?"
Harry laughed. "That's what I thought when I first saw it, but it's completely non magical. Getting it here was very magical though. Dobby and his friends set all of this up for me after I stubbed my toe on the bed frame in my other tent. It was a bit crowded inside and I cursed the 'stuffy tent' and that was all he needed to hear. Been getting into bad habits from talking to goblins. One has to bevery careful with one's language where a house elf can hear, unless you really want to have to try and come up with a reasonable explanation of why you have two dozen elephants in the yard."
She laughed and then shook her head. "It must have cost the earth!"
"It cost me a packet of magic for lots of elves. Every bit of this tent came out of the skip where it was thought to be beyond repair. House elves have the most incredible skill with magic, but little of their own. They can fix almost anything like new if they can get the magic. The man at the place where he got it was in the know, so Dobby did a bit of trading, fixing various valuable items in exchange for all of this." Harry smiled, a thought occurring to him. He could get Dobby to introduce Greg to the squib and that way the pureblood boy could make some eating money and perhaps a friend that he could ask about the mechanics of living in the wider world.
"Someone just threw a gorgeous tent like this away?" She unlimbered the camera. "Can I take pictures?"
Harry shrugged. There was nothing in sight that couldn't be explained. "Sure, but don't take a picture of Dobby or anything else that could break the statute. He told me that this tent had been stored in a damp old warehouse with a leaky roof so that it got moldy and rotten. The owners threw it away as uneconomical to repair, but magic can do things that are otherwise hopelessly expensive very cheaply." He grinned at her. "And you are one of the few very lucky folk that can learn to use such magic."
Jane was floating on pure amazement. The little man, Dobby, showed them into one of the canvas 'rooms' that contained a sort of lounge with a Victorian sofa and overstuffed chairs with end and coffee tables, all sitting on a magnificent Persian rug. He brought a cart with two glasses, a pitcher of cold milk and a silver platter of home made biscuits.
They sat on the sofa and ate biscuits until both were near comatose. Then Harry asked Dobby to retrieve a trunk which had a whole library inside.
Jane could hardly believe it. "Its like something from Doctor Who!" She touched the walls wonderingly.
Harry laughed. "My relatives would never let me watch that show. Guess they didn't want me getting ideas." He'd sometimes overheard the show from Dudly's telly. He selected a couple of books from the shelf. "I'll lend you 'An Introduction to Magical Britain' and 'An Overview of the Statute of Secrecy to take home and read.' Those will keep you out of trouble for a while and you can call Dobby for more when you're done."
"I wish that I could go to Hogwarts." She sighed.
Harry shrugged, gesturing an invitation to sit in one of the wing-back chairs.
She sat and a globe lit up just over her shoulder, perfect for reading. "What do you think that I should do?" Jane began paging through one of the books.
Harry sat opposite and thought about it. "I think that you should stay in school and just pick up magic as you can. Its not that hard for the most part and I can help you when I'm here. I saw all kinds of portrait tutors and lecturing busts for sale at the second hand shop. We'll find you a wand that works and you can just call for Dobby to watch over you and practice behind the wards. There are plenty of tutors for hire too."
"Thank you, Harry, but why do you advise that?"
"I've been thinking about it a lot. Hogwarts may have started as a school, but now its really there to help keep the secret." Harry leaned forward, his eyes intense. "You'll learn herbology, charms and transfiguration as well as a bit of potions by rote if the bas- bloke that teaches it can keep himself from sabotaging you, but that's the core of it. People graduate and then what? You've lost your place in the real world and getting it back is hard."
"Can't you just, I don't know, get some tutors or something? Take your A levels and catch up?" Jane was bored with school and magic was just so tantalizing.
"Wizards use compulsion spells to change your mind, Jane. Hogwarts is full of them. They want us isolated from the normal world and even the 'light' wizards think nothing of it. Love potions are real and they bloody well work. The old families that rule over the Wizengamot and control the Ministry of Magic mostly see people like us- well, magic people from families that have no one to warn them, as fodder for their use."
"Warn them of what?" Jane was now feeling a good deal less sanguine about being able to learn witchcraft.
Harry bit his lip. "My friend Hermione told me on our first train ride to school that she was only allowed to go so long as she could be tutored in normal subjects and keep up. She showed me her mu- mundane schoolbooks and said there was a room for normal school at Hogwarts, but I haven't seen or heard of anyone studying for A levels since then. I think that one of them popped in, waved a wand and made her and her parents forget."
"Really?" Jane was horrified.
Harry nodded, grimacing. He had never given these inconsistencies a thought before being fixed up at Gringotts, but he wasn't at all sure of many of the things he'd taken for granted before. Gramps was outright evil, speaking with evident pride and even relish about various horrible things that he'd done, admittedly to people no better than he, but that made Harry trust him because he knew exactly where the old icon was coming from. Most of Gramps' observations made good sense and had started Harry thinking. Dumbledore had spoken of 'the greater good' several times in their acquaintance, always while explaining why Harry Potter must be flung back into the shit.
"I hope that it didn't hurt them." Jane suddenly realized that she and her parents were also likely victims of the wizards changing their minds.
Harry shook his head. "I don't know enough to tell you, Jane. Hogwarts isn't like real education, with all of the things that you need to know to get along. The curriculum doesn't include the basics of survival, where to get a job or anything about the government, Gringotts or even an actual map of the magic world. You sort of learn from stumbling about or hearing adverts on Wizarding Wireless, if you know about it and have one. Chopgrill, a goblin that I know, said that they probably just want useful peasants to put to work. He's just a server goblin and kind of bitter, but it makes sense. That's why they don't tell you a thing about the customs, laws or how easy it is for bad people to enslave you with contracts. They don't say a thing about official discrimination or explain the stupid blood status thing. And the sad part is that no matter how well you do in their school, you'll never understand half of what they get on about or really be considered one of them."
Jane swallowed. "Mum was right then."
Harry nodded. "They go about calling normal people 'muggles,' and magical people born from them 'mudbloods.' Get a real education and learn basic wand waving in the summers. You really can't learn much rally advanced magic at Hogwarts anyway." He suddenly brightened. "Hey! I could introduce you to Hermione! That would remind her of her A levels! You could tutor each other and when you turn sixteen you can get wand rights by taking an OWL! They would have to leave you alone after that."
Lf
After seeing Jane home, Harry returned to the library for some research. Jane had shocked him by stopping at her father's office and getting past the copyright charms of his 'Standard Book of Spells, Grade One' with her father's photo copier.
Intrigued, Harry used the search feature and the shelf presented him with 'The New Spell Compendium,' a book recently taken out of the Potter vault.
Harry sat in the comfortable wingback chair, reading through the book. It listed 'new' spells with guides to use and hexagrammic explanations of their arithmantic roots. It was vaguely interesting but above his head by a foot. Turning to the section that described text charms, he could find nothing even slightly like what he was looking for, so he started randomly paging ahead. A name caught his eye, causing him to freeze in amazement.
Harry laughed with disbelief as he read the spell description again.
'Xeroxio.' Spell by Lily Marie Evans, June 1977. 'A spell for creating a facsimile of the contents of a page. Does not violate the sanctity of copyright charmed publications.' A brief moving illustration of the wand movement appeared below, the arm and hand slim and feminine, the wand long and elegant to match, probably a representation of Lily Evans.
Harry jumped as the illustration suddenly animated, demonstrating the pronunciation and wand movement by stating, 'Xeroxio' in a melodic voice.
Harry stared, just watching and listening to the illustration casting its spell over and over before raising his own wand to follow his mother's direction, eyes stinging as he listened to the forgotten voice and imagined what his life could have been like without the mad criminal stupidity of the dark fart and his foul toadies. Taking a deep breath and blinking away tears, he opened a magazine, positioned a lined pad next to it and for the first time that he could remember let his mother teach him.
Lf
Narcissa Malfoy hummed with a quiet joy as she updated the ledger, glowing with pride at the black ink of the entry. Her initial commercial brewing effort, a small amount of a special pore cleanser that she had developed for herself and commonly brewed once a year using ingredients sourced from the estate, had been very well received by Mister Jiggers. The shop elf seemed to be a spy for Mrs Jiggers and she had arrived just as soon as it had informed her that Narcissa was selling her personal facial potion. It seemed that she was her own advertisement and one application had dazzled the older woman. The Jiggers would buy all that she could brew at a good profit.
The sale had netted her twenty seven galleons, more than enough to cover Draco's new robes and incidental school expenses. There was even enough left over that she wouldn't have to cut his usual pocket money allowance by more than half. Another few batches would net her the funds to furnish a larger lab, so that production of several potions could be scaled up and necessary quality maintained. She hoped to buy a young elf within the year, one that she could teach to help her brew and properly maintain the lab.
There was a chime and she rose, frowning as she made her way to the receiving room. She had been hoping that her late husband's disreputable associates would take the hint and simply leave her alone but they still called occasionally seeking succor. She would invariably inform them of Lucius' lack of preparation for his demise and advise them to turn themselves in. A smile broke out on her face as she saw her eldest sister smiling face through the green flames of the flue.
"Am I welcome, Cissy?"
"Always, Dromida! I have control of the wards so yes, be forever welcome to the manor. Come through if you wish and know that every member of the family Tonks is welcome here." No longer socially constrained by her marriage contract, Narcissa wanted nothing to do with her former associates.
Andromeda Tonks, Narcissa's much envied eldest sister, stepped gracefully through the flue into the receiving room. "What of Lucius' old friends? Are any of that ilk still lurking about? It wouldn't do to make a mess in your pretty manor."
"The elves do so love to clean. Only family in good standing are listed in the ward book, but please feel free to express yourself should the riffraff find their way in." Narcissa gave her an impish smile. Most outsiders had erroneously thought Bella to be the most accomplished wielder of the Black Arts among the three sisters, but though generally peaceful and unassuming, Andromeda was their great grandmother's true protege, a nightmare on legs, the only sister accomplished and personally powerful enough to defy the Black paterfamilias to his face with impunity.
Andromeda let her magic fill the room, feeling the wards testing her and evaluating them in turn. "These wards seem a bit thin."
Narcissa smiled apologetically. "They aren't up to standard, but I had to tear the old ones down to clear away any surprises that Lucius' master may have left. I've tested the ward stones for curses and traps, but I want to replace everything that could have been tampered with as time allows. The original Malfoy wards scheme was still intact under it all, but they were just tatty nineteenth century commercial arrays. Reworking them into a proper Family ward will take me several years."
"Perhaps it would be best to simply build the new system as a standalone set and completely scrap the old before commissioning the new in order to prevent possible contagion. One never knows where he may have planted a curse. We can't be too careful dealing with that bastard, Cissy."
"As we have learnt to our sorrow." Narcissa was sure that Bella and perhaps even Walburga herself had been tampered with.
The sisters embraced and Andromeda stepped back with a smile, "It is so very good to see you again. I came thinking that I might need to conduct a mass eviction, but you have things well in hand."
"Lucius had forbidden them in the manor in an effort to appear harmless after his disgusting master fell. Come, Sister! Hetty has prepared refreshments." After another impulsive hug, Narcissa led her oldest sister, the sister that had largely raised and protected her from unstable parents, to a favored outdoor table.
Lf
Draco was flying quiddich drills, imagining the girls cheering as he humiliated Potter. Turning in his newly perfected Sayre Spiral, he dodged an imaginary bludger and then came to a halt. Practice would be even better with practice bludgers. He could call Crab and Goyle over and…
Suddenly dejected, Draco landed and began to walk back to the manor, no longer feeling like flying. His former bodyguards were more likely to beat him to a pulp than help him. Would he even even be invited back on the team? He had thought father so very clever, but buying the seeker's slot had made him no friends. Flint and the other upperclassmen had been quick to oblige, seeking favors in turn, but there would be no favors now. Without his father's influence, there would be no consideration of his wants and open tryouts would be held. If they allowed him to try at all, Draco would be facing at least three prospects that were every bit as good as he.
Draco heaved a deep sigh. Every time that he started to do something normal the new reality would intrude and bring him crashing down. Father was dead and he couldn't even conduct a proper funeral rite. Father was lie, another man's property. Father had intended to see him made property too, raising him like livestock for his filthy mudblood bastard of a master to brand. His eyes watered, but Draco determinedly withheld the tears. Mother was right. Truth hurt, but tears and denial would accomplish nothing. He couldn't even be angry at Father for the deception, as the man had been trapped with no more choice than Dobby had, when ordered to iron his hands or slam his ears in the oven. At least Father could not betray him again.
Entering the house, Draco turned toward his room, but was halted by his mother.
Narcissa smiled. "Ah, there you are, Draco. Your Aunt Andromeda is visiting. Hurry and make yourself presentable and then come join us at the green table to meet her. I expect you to be on your best behavior, Draco. She is our blood."
"Yes, Mother." He managed a smile before turning away. He only had one aunt left, so it was the blood traitor… no, he simply couldn't think that way anymore. A traitor was someone on one's side that had betrayed it. The only ones on his side were his family and out of them only his father had betrayed him. His aunt was of his blood, so he was on her side even if she had married a mud -muggleborn.
Draco went to his room and started to throw his broom carelessly down. Stopping himself, he flushed as he turned to put it properly away on its shelf. He wouldn't be getting another. It was hard, but he had to be mindful of the new reality, to embrace the forms of correct behavior at all times. Mother had meticulously taught him proper manners, but he had thrown all that away listening to Father and acting the bullying thug. He winced at a memory of Greengrass' curled lip. Could he live it down?
Undressing, he dived into his marble bath, submerging and holding his breath as the soapy cleansing potion rushed about. He wished with all his heart that the last month could be washed away as easily.
LF
"Dobby?" Tonks waited for a moment, and was rewarded with a soft pop.
"Cousin Tonksey calls for Dobby?" Dobby was dressed in a snow-white chef's uniform, complete with a buttoned down double breasted jacket and a hundred-pleated toque-blanche as tall as he was.
After a second of speechlessness as she processed, Tonks had to laugh. "What a magnificent hat!"
Dobby bowed, demonstrating that the hat was held on with magic. "Dobby's Great Master owns many uniforms for his elfs to wear." The elf didn't like to speak of the uniforms as his, fearing that if he defined things he might accidentally limit himself to the detested pillowcase again.
"I hope that you weren't too busy." Tonks led in hesitantly.
Dobby straightened with a grin. "Dobby's master has the strongest magic and likes for his Dobby to answer his friends!"
Tonks smiled. "Well, thank you for keeping this place so nice and clean. I really do appreciate it."
"Dobby is always happy to do this thing!" The elf looked around and then snapped. "All clean!"
"Thank you again, Dobby, but I actually called you here because I need to talk to Harry." She bit her lip.
Dobby threw out his chest. "Master has spoken of inviting his Tonksey to see his estate! Maybe she would come for lunch? Master has made Dobby a kitchen and Dobby has brought many groceries! Dobby wants to grill steak and potatoes and bake breads and pies and make ice creams and-"
"I am a bit tired of takeout." Tonks interrupted, mouth watering a little. "That would do very nicely, but check with Harry first. I can just meet him somewhere if it's too much trouble."
The elf grinned. "Cousin Tonksey already be's in Master's ward book."
"He has a ward-book for empty land?" Harry was well off, but Tonks knew that most wizards just put up a simple anti-muggle perimeter with a confundus charm, leaving actual wards for a building.
"Harry Potter has paid for finest goblin ward!" Dobby thought his master was a lot smarter than anyone suspected, smart like a proper Great Master should be. His master had paid with the monthly accumulation in the Bad One's vault and Dobby suspected that Harry Potter had learned far more of the art of weaving earth-magic than the goblin Ritual Masters had ever dreamed of teaching any wizard.
Tonks frowned. "You said that you have a kitchen. Did he have something built?"
"Master has made the kitchen for his Dobby! Can Dobby bring the Tonksey to Harry Potter's Land?"
"How?" Tonks wondered if Harry had bought a portkey. The goblins could make a reusable version with their ritual magic, but it was difficult for them, expensive and took a long time. They sometimes sold them, adamant that they obeyed no Ministry law, but it was a highly political issue and not something for a prudent auror to get herself mixed up with. "The elves at the Ministry say that they can't pop anyone."
Dobby grinned. "They is not the elfs of the Great and Powerful Harry Potter!" He reached out.
Tonks was suddenly on a green in what looked like a park. "Aaugh! Harry?"
"Master will come soon. Dobby must make time to cook!" The elf vanished.
Tonks took a good look around. "Oh, this is brilliant." There was a small ruin of a marble gazebo facing a beautiful pond. It was partially collapsed and canted drunkenly where it had sunk in on one side. It was all very Romanesque with marble columns and red tile and very picturesque.
A pair of pair of swans watched her from the pond. It was all very beautiful and peaceful. Tonks took a deep breath, enjoying the smell from the ancient trees of the surrounding forest.
Harry stepped out of the treeline, smiling a welcome. "Hello, Tonksey!"
Tonks gaped at him. "]You've grown! I might not have recognized you!"
"It must be from all the vitamins and growth potion." Harry hadn't bothered with a mirror in ages and Dobby was sensitive to his master's needs, resizing clothing seamlessly.
"Do prepare yourself, Harry. You are going to be getting attention from the girls this year, so watch your pretzels." She grinned and met him at the distorted marble pavilion. "Was this from your family?"
Harry smiled. "Sort of. I was trying to build a shed. I got every bit of it wrong and accidentally disintegrated the floor frame and a wall, but I made this while experimenting with magical substitutes for cement."
Tonk's eyes widened. "This is amazing transfiguration for someone your age. Is positively locked?"
Harry shrugged uncertainly, not really sure what she meant. "I guess? I use transfiguration, but my buildings are permanent until I vanish them or else they fall down. Probably." Harry could shape stones and he could use his wand to stack them, but he didn't know a thing about foundations that he hadn't learned through trial and error.
Tonks ran her hand down the fitted blocks of the wall. "Did you find a grimoire that taught you some shortcut to runic stabilization?"
"I found a book with one of my mother's spells, but it didn't have anything to do with this. The first couple of buildings that I made collapsed right away, but that's because I don't understand foundations. This one has stones that interlock on the top and bottom like Lego to keep them stable," said Harry, completely misunderstanding the question. "That's a toy that my cousin had, little plastic building blocks. Used to flick them under Vernon's bedroom door. They work a treat when trod on and he always blamed the Dud."
Tonks laughed. "No, I mean the blocks themselves. As far as I know there is no way to make a transfiguration permanent. You have to plan for failure by linking and balancing energy states and calculating the rates of decay. If a lower block reverts first the upper ones could fall and kill someone." Tonks started to grow concerned. The construction method was primitive and it was a heavy looking roof.
"Oh!" Harry grinned at her, happy to have read enough of his old tent's instruction manual to understand what she meant. "I read a bit about that. I don't know runes so I found another way. First you transfigure a boulder into oil with thaumaturgy, then pour it into a mold. You can hold it in place with the wand while sort of pulling it back toward stone with evocation and with a bit of practice you can feel how the transfigured molecules want to arrange themselves. If you help them along and get most of the molecules stacked right then all you have to do is hold it all in place while you pull the magic out with the wand. When the oil reverts you get nice smooth blocks. The rest just falls away, but that's great for graveling the drive."
Tonks gave him a blank stare, trying to figure out what he was talking about, but not wanting to seem completely thick by inquiring. "Dobby says that you built him a kitchen."
"It's behind the new tent." Harry shook his head ruefully. "It's the worst thing that I ever built and the whole thing might fall down. Or implode and suck the earth into a black hole, I'm not certain which. It started as an idea for a rain cover better than a canvas fly, but then I tried to make it all at once instead of just blocks. I made walls and a roof to keep the wind and rain out, but I was distracted by Fawkes coming for a visit while doing the evocation and it ended up twisting all about and looking like something from a giant dog's backside. I didn't get half a second to vanish it before Dobby dived straight in and went completely bonkers with elf expansion magic on the interior. The gravity is totally wonky in there, so never stick your head in if you value it and want to keep your breakfast down. It's really and truly horrible in every way, but he loves it so much that I can't bring myself to vanish it."
Two elaborately cushioned wicker chase lounges appeared, a low stone table in between holding tall hurricane-glass bulbs of blended ice, each with a cane straw. A vast offset rectangular umbrella towered over everything, shading the seats from the sun.
"It's lovely, Harry, just the thing." Tonks examined the umbrella, then the heavy pole and the massive base plate that held it down. It was obviously muggle made and of high commercial quality, with 'Trattoria' printed around the edges. "Where did you get this?"
Harry shrugged. "Dobby found a scrapheap somewhere and has a deal with the squib that runs it. He's really good at repairs and gets to take anything he fancies in return for a few choice fixes. I don't really know the specifics."
"Well I'm impressed." She hadn't seen anything like it at a wizard's home before.
"Wait until you see the tent." Harry walked over and picked a glass up, grinning. "Pineapple mango! Dobby's been experimenting with an enchanted crank blender that we dug up. It tried to blend my face off straightaway but Dobby tamed it with an old cricket bat. Now I can't decide which of these blended ices I like best."
Tonks picked hers up and took a long pull from the straw. Surprised, she collapsed into the comfortable wicker lounge chair. "Mmmmm. Pomegranate and cranberry. Your house parties are going to be legendary once you're old enough for vodka, Harry."
Harry sat. He had tasted vodka out of curiosity and thought that it ranked well beneath charcoal lighter as a beverage. "I don't know how anyone can actually drink vodka."
"That's just as well. I can barely remember what 'thaumaturgy' and 'evocation' mean, so I'm afraid that your explanation on the fake ruin didn't make much sense." Tonks could vaguely recall a blurb about it at the beginning of an introduction to magic book, something to be ignored in favor of getting the wand out. Running her hand over the mirror polished table, she noticed with astonishment that it had been seamlessly cast from a monolithic mass of granite.
"Thaumaturgy is just using regular wand magic that comes from the wizard and equivocation is how you scrape up and use whatever power you can find lying about. Outside magic works just as well." Harry sucked in freezing smoothie and then groaned, clutching his head. "Ooooh, I do that every time but I can't stop."
"Are you talking about wandless magic?" She frowned, "Breath in through your nose and blow out through your mouth, Harry. You need to warm up your brain."
Harry took several deep breaths, grimaced and promptly had more smoothie, doggedly riding the border of brain freeze. "It is a sort of wandless magic, but that's not something daft like everyone thinks. You can't do wand magic with a finger and Merlin couldn't either. What you can do is influence the loose bits of magic that are always lying about. It's a bit different, but not too hard once you get use to it. Dobby showed me how the elves do it, but what I do is closer to how the goblins work, only I don't need a group like they do. I can show you if you like."
That sounded rather like full-on sorcery to Tonks. "I'd like that, Harry, but some other time. Before this goes too far, I have some news. The DMLE has located your proper legal guardian. Your Godfather, Sirius Black, was locked away in Azkaban Prison where he has been held without ever once being formally accused of a crime. Madame Bones let him out, but he sort of… broke after we got him out of the cell. He's in Saint Mungos trying to recover from the Dementor exposure."
Harry stared at her. One of the first things that he'd done on arrival at Hogwarts was to read everything that he could find about his family, so he broadly knew who Sirius Black was. "My father's friend and supposed secret keeper. So what really happened?"
"Sirius wasn't the secret keeper. He is a Black though, and like all of us with that blood decidedly prone to rages." She gave him a wry smile, acknowledging their common connection through that family. "So he ran after the real betrayer, fell right into a trap and was subsequently fitted up by his enemies."
"Peter Pettigrew is supposedly dead, or at least his finger is. Who fitted him up?" Harry wasn't sure how he should feel about this.
"My mother was born a Black and still has her copy of the Black Family Chronicle. She did some investigating and gave us some possible names. A special department of the Ministry uncovered the rest using advanced scrying."
Harry nodded, flipped open his notebook and wrote down 'scrying,' underlining it twice for his later attention. He already had an extensive to-do list of interesting ideas, but there just weren't enough hours in the day. "Who?"
Tonks sipped her drink pensively, not at all fooled by his mild tone. "You see, Harry, a lot of people are wary of the Black family. Many rivals, their extended clans and even some entire magical kingdoms have fallen hard to the Black wand and that's left an impression. The Blacks typically never leave survivors, but they've missed a few here and there and left people with a score to settle."
Harry grimaced. "Careless of them." He believed in justice and mercy to a certain extent, but his own experience growing up had taught him about showing his back to an enemy. Gramps had spoken on the matter at length, giving plenty of examples from family history of tables turning and why it was not wise to do small injuries and leave an enemy free to plot revenge. Of course Gramps preferred to magically brand his enemies with terrible rune marks that he 'persuaded' them to accept before selling them to the richest and most horrible people on Earth as slaves, but the principle was the same.
Tonks nodded grimly. "There was one such family, an old pureblood house called the Stones that were all but exterminated in a blood-feud with the Blacks back in the thirteenth century. A few survivors pretending to be in-laws and the like were granted mercy and escaped the Black Death, hiding under the name 'Crouch.' They gradually filtered back into the Wizarding world, biding their time and had reestablished themselves in the Wizengamot by the fifteenth century. Strangely, things haven't gone well for the Blacks since their emergence."
"Crouch." Harry took a contemplative pull on the smoothie and frowned. "I know that name. Barty Crouch was the Director of Magical Law Enforcement during the war against Riddle." He had enlisted Hermione's aid to piece some of his family history together from old news articles and the fanciful 'historical' accounts of his life in those books. It was quite hard to find information that hadn't been unrecognizably embellished by the amateurish wizards. It also didn't help that none of the Hogwarts teachers were willing to tell him much of what they knew about his family, seeming to think that leaving him ignorant was better than 'upsetting' him with actual information.
"He was. Later on the morning after your parents were killed, two obliviators responded to a statute violation call and found Sirius standing in the street with thirteen dead muggles around him. Crouch came to the scene himself, saw his chance and used an emergency power to secretly bundle Sirius off to Azkaban, where suspected insurgents could be held without charges for up to thirty days." Tonks grimaced.
"Surely the guards would have asked why he was there during the next month." Harry knew little of Azkaban.
"They're idiots or Dementors that don't actually care why anyone is there." Tonks hoped never to go back to that cursed place. "Barty put Sirius away without a single sworn auror being assigned to investigate and then Barty Junior, his son, was caught committing an atrocity as a marked Death Eater. Crouch put Junior away all proper with a fast public trial and then resigned as Director, never telling his deputy about Sirius. That neatly did away with the Black heir."
Harry gave her a skeptical look. "So how was Sirius in there for so long? Surely the prison has some idea of a prisoner's term."
"We're still investigating." Tonks frowned. "It was a well thought out and executed bureaucratic kidnapping, Harry. The deputy that took over from Crouch, Sidell, was a coward who bunked off in fear of his life when Minister Bagnold was almost assassinated a few days later. Albert Brodie, a retired former DMLE director, was appointed in the interim. He was a very old wizard that soon died. As he returned as Director within the period of Special Detention for Sirius the case could be made that he is technically to blame. In the meantime, Ministry records were obfuscated and reports fabricated in the press that painted Sirius Black as a death eater that had been convicted of complicity in the attack on your parents. Everyone believed it except for Mum, but as a Tonks she had no legal standing or backing in the 'mot to open an inquiry."
Harry scowled. "The usual magical amateurs playing at jobs." Why were wizards so stupid?
Tonks gave him a shrug and continued, "Peter Pettigrew's death was laid at Sirius Black's door, as well as that of the thirteen muggles. Crouch had the obliviators sign the arrest reports as if they were actual investigating aurors, a detail that then-Undersecretary Fudge seems to have overlooked. Both of the idiot obliviators were fired not much later over a different bit of incompetence, planting illegal drugs on innocent people as a 'muggleworthy' explanation, but no one had ever thought to question them over their involvement in the Black case."
"Yes, because why bother with thinking when you can just wave a wand?" Harry decided that he could never join the Ministry.
Tonks fumed a bit. She had worked hard to become an auror and no half-baked fool of an obliviator could pretend to her job. "When we caught up with the two masterminds, we found that neither had any idea of what they had signed or that arresting someone was beyond their remit. The few remaining members of the Black Family had unofficially disowned or just forgotten Sirius by then and were either too old, cursed or crazy to be of any help to him. Apparently Lord Orion Black had taken to his bed, suffering from advanced dementia. Mum is certain that Aunt Walburga poisoned the whole family for her Dark Lord."
"Awkward, that." Harry once again mused on his luck, good and bad, not to be raised by wizards.
"Indeed." Tonks had often wondered as a child how someone like her mother, a powerful sorceress gamely trying to throttle back her maniacally dark intensity, had ended up with the kind, upbeat, happy-go-lucky sunny-natured muggle born human teddy bear called Ted Tonks, but her research into the Blacks had answered that question. "Your grandmother Astrid, who had actually taken Sirius in and raised him from the age of eleven, was dead of Dragon Pox by then and the rest of his 'friends' seem to have abandoned him on the rumor. The two DMLE directors previous to Bones were total nonentities. Neither looked into anything nor did they feel any need to clean house. With the records hidden, the disruptions caused by the death of Minister Bagnold and the vast incompetence of Fudge, the Wizengamot never knew to call Sirius to trial."
Harry frowned thoughtfully. Did wizards really get dementia? "Funny how things work out. Pettigrew was awarded a posthumous Order of Merlin Third Class for losing a finger. Even wizards had to know that being blown up and leaving only a finger was rubbish. I knew that when I read about it in an old Prophet and I was eleven. They just didn't care, not one of them. Sirius' life meant nothing to them." Harry wouldn't ever forget the bumbling Minister and the wretched Malfoy throwing Hagrid into prison 'just to be seen doing something.' At the time Harry had personally thought that Hagrid should have done the world a favor by splatting their heads together and throwing the bodies to the spiders.
Tonks took a reflective pull on her smoothie. "You overestimate the sophistication of wizards. Very little had gotten out at the time and according to Mum, there were half a dozen versions of the story going around. The Death Eaters would typically kill absolutely everyone involved, along with families whenever one of theirs were convicted, so if you were a member of a judicial panel that had put some of them away then no one would expect you to speak up about it in open session. The newspaper story and a bit of forgery could easily fool everyone."
Harry shot her a skeptical look. "So Sirius Black goes to the dementors and I'm packed off to the Dursleys. Who gains?"
Tonks thought about it. "Lucius Malfoy, most notably. He came up with Walburga's proxy to vote the Black seats soon after and with that block behind him had all but convinced everyone that his spawn would inherit the family."
"Fudge becomes Minister, Crouch gets something too, but what? Malfoy gets to keep his Death Eater gang going." Harry smiled. Every time he thought of his overstuffed new vault it just got better. "I suppose that being happy that he's dead is kind of crass, but I can't help it."
Tonks laughed and clinked glasses with him in a mock toast. "Have you been following the news?"
"No," admitted Harry. "Hedwig brings the Quibbler, but that's mostly covering the Snorkack hunt. It's going well according to the latest dispatches. They've seen tracks."
Tonks nodded thoughtfully, trying not to laugh. "If you ignore the complete wackiness, the Quibbler can be surprisingly accurate from time to time. It tends to put people off in the long run though. You start reading for the comedy, but once you notice that thread of truth it can lead you to places that will Completely. Freak. You. Out."
Harry nodded. The more you dug into one of Luna's quaint delusions the more confused and uncertain reality got. "Yeah. I know Luna Lovegood."
Tonks gave him a speculative look and then continued, "Quibbles aside, Lucius' masked mates are having quite a hard time of it without him. Old Mad Eye and his Heavy Mob keep coming upon them stone dead, mysteriously having killed each other. Sometimes one is dead and the other is missing, presumed fled, leaving plenty of evidence behind. Open and shut cases really. On top of that, Auntie Bellatrix, her husband and all of the rest of the marked prisoners died recently of a bad case of being flung headlong through the Veil of Death."
"Condolences." Harry held out his glass for another clink.
Tonks grinned and obliged. "Fudgie's resigned and vanished like a bad smell. Now Umbridge has the baton and she's already digging her way into Azkaban with her stupidity. There's some sort of faction fight going on in the background, but Toadies days are numbered."
Harry shrugged, not really knowing or caring anything about politics.
Tonks laughed. "I was standing guard in the chamber when Fudge lost his nerve. The Boss was outlining the atrocities recently discovered in Knockturn and he was sitting there, fumbling about with that stupid hat, getting paler and paler. Chief Witch Longbottom was staring at him the entire time and I don't think that she ever blinked once. She can be fairly described as just a tad vindictive you know. Fudgy was quivering like an albino bunny under a harvest moon."
Harry's straw gurgled as he sucked air, so he leaned back in his chair. "Like Neville."
Tonks did a perfect spit-take, laughing. "Merlin! You got me with that one."
Harry grinned. "He's my Godmother's son, so I could have ended up being raised along with him. After seeing that old bat at the station I'll take the muggles, thanks very much."
Tonks turned serious. "Mum tried to find you, you know, but Dumbledore just said that you were 'safe,' as if your disposition was some business of his. She couldn't get the Ministry to do a thing, either. The light ones were scared of her and the dark ones thought her a blood traitor... and were scared of her. Everyone just hid behind Dumbledore. We knew you because Sirius used to bring you around sometimes to show you off when Lilly and James needed a break. I was five and I used to make you laugh at my hair."
It took Harry a long second to shift gears. "I still laugh at your hair."
Tonks chortled. "A Potter on about someone's hair? That's rich."
Harry shrugged. "I have funny hair too."
Dobby appeared with a pop. "Would master and his Tonksey like to eat?"
"Yes please. I'm starving." Tonks stood up, and watched as the elf took the seats and table away. "That's one powerful house elf, Harry."
"Too right he is. Come on." Harry lead her along the path through the woods, smiling to himself.
Tonks eyes widened and she had to close her mouth when she finally noticed the circus tent, flags flying proudly. "Is that real, Harry?"
Harry laughed. "I thought that too! It's completely real. Dobby got it from the scrapyard for me."
Tonks stopped in front of the tent, staring. "Its… Gorgeous!"